An Importante Announcemente!
by C. Clerk
Summary: Robin Hood, or Fulk Fitzwarin, would like to set a few things straight. This document has been dictated to the learned hand of Friar Tuck.


_Ta, da da, da, da, whoo _

_I steal from the rich and give to the needy,_

"_(He takes a wee percentage)", but I'm not greedy!_

_I rescue pretty damsels, man I'm good_

"_What a guy!", ha ha, "Monsieur Hood!"_

_Break it down_

_-- Shrek, "Monsieur Hood"_

It was, I suppose, just annoying when he smashed a chessboard over my head!

We were only children! He was fifteen, and I was fourteen, my name was Fulk Fitzwarin and I was wronged! John was my friend, when he smashed that chessboard over my head. I suppose also that he was my friend afterward, but only after I had forgiven him. And I promise you, it was not easy for him to regain my trust – I don't easily forgive villains who smash chessboards over their _friends'_ heads.

How did I come up with the name? Why "Robin" Hood, you might ask, if you are astute and critical, as I expect all men perusing this document to be? They are the only scholars of the right vein to criticise me. I stand up to all criticism; I _did _steal from the rich and give to the poor, I was pious (though a friend to John the _devil _at some points in my life), and my legends hold up under perusal.

Oh, this is all so confusing! Why do I bother, trying to unravel all these bits of wool?

Just read any book marked "Robin Hood" and you'll see who I am. Though I am an exciting narrator, I can't promise you I won't get carried away with a more exciting thing over another exciting thing, and people have to keep up with me or my pen will flow off the page and I'll create entire _worlds _with ink and steel nibs (though steel nibs have the habit of breaking, and they're very frustrating! I have a grudge against steel nibs, and indeed against all thin sheets of steel, as they're very brittle – it's a little-known fact about Robin Hood, that he dislikes steel nibs, so you had better write it down!).

But anyway, you must know how it all went with the chess game! John and I – that is evil _Prince _John, as well, you should know – used to be friends as boys. Yes! It is true! It is the terrible and shameful truth! When I was a young and impressionable lad, I used to treat him with respect and even love. Though it is a Christian virtue to love one's enemies, so I suppose I wasn't entirely in the wrong, and even if I was in the wrong, I was a young impressionable boy – remember that!

Anyway, it all started when we were lads, perhaps fourteen-thirteen, or perhaps twelve-eleven, though I remember thinking his father Henry very handsome so we can't have been any _younger _than twelve-eleven – are you getting all this down, Tuck? I hope you're not narrating my every word – I don't want to confuse people – and some things are just my ramblings so they aren't all to be got down.

_FRIAR: My dear and lovely and most reverent Robin, no words of yours are ever invaluable. Like God's word, they are each imbued with an individual special and valuable property of their own._

_ROBIN: AHA! Aha, ha, my dear Friar! You could almost be a flatterer._

_FRIAR: Ahaha._

What happened was, John and I were playing at chess. John is a strange sort of a person. He's quite short, and brown all over, and has a sort of stooped, shy walk, and shy, but bitter way of speaking, as though he might not want you to know that he is shy, or might not want you to know that he cares one denomination of a point about being the last of four royal brothers. Anyway, he was the youngest prince, and he hated being called the "baby" brother – why did he care about that, might anyone ask? Can't one make a name for oneself these days? One might simply become an outlaw, might one not?

Ahaha. But my dear Friar, we must press on – about the chess game. Well, we were playing at chess. I never had much patience for the game; I kept getting urges to get up and swipe all the pieces off the board and say, "I am Fulke Fitzwarene" – with an _e, _Friar, let's not scrimp on our art, and you write such a beautiful _e _with a curly tail – "and I _win_, as I have risen above the rules of this game to win literally and bravely in a way nobody has ever done before!"

But it just happened that John is one of those people who likes to play on a level playing field, and _not _descend into the realm of divine theatrics, or heroic advancements, or anything of the sort – so we just sat there all afternoon with the rain making a song against the battlements and the window, and I was just bored out of my mind. But one is disciplined when one is destined to make a ham of the law, and despite his best efforts I defied him within an area that is _not_ my "specialitae"(1) – PLAYING WITHIN THE RULES. Are you shocked, my dear reader of future England? You ought to be. Within the expert illumilation of my dear Friar Robert Tuck's _calligraphae_, I am imparting to you something that Robin of Hood (Hood, as in the profession, not the country (there isn't a country anyway called 'Hood')) has ever imparted before. I PLAYED WITHIN THE RULES.

It is astounding that John himself did not, then and there, immediately recognise the awareness of his sensitivity that I showed in playing the game in his style and format, and drop to one knee in recognition of this semi-miricle. For Fulke Fitzwarene knows when Fulke Fitzwarene must show compassione to those who are not aware of the heroice waye in whiche hee functionse, and Fulke Fitzwarene…

_(The rest of the document is intelligible, and appears to be written by a fatigued hand that appears to be unused to copying down dictation for any length of time, or copying dictation that includes this amount of bombast.)_

(1) _It seems that Robin Hood, here, graced us with his divine imagination, and has created an original word to ecompass an original thought. If any sort of future scholar is perusing this documentae, they should immediately incorporate this word into the modern dictionary. Of course, there is always a possibility that he gave me (Friar Robert Tuck) a chance to write another of my calligraphical "e"s of which I was so very fond. If that is decided to be the case, the word should not be incorporated into a modern dictionary, but should be listed and quoted as an example of Robin Hood's compassion for his underlings, and a constant awareness of the talents in which his comrades shine._


End file.
